


crystalised

by Anonymous



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Community: frostironprompt, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quietly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	crystalised

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really old thing from [here.](http://frostironprompt.livejournal.com/518.html?thread=57094#t57094)

you’ve applied the pressure  
to have me  _crystalised_  
and you’ve got the faith  
that i could bring paradise

 

* * *

 

Quietly.  
  
Loki draws his arms around the sleeping mortal, a smile curling on his face. Anthony’s arc reactor casts a gentle light that graces the bedroom, blue tracing the blankets, the bed. So much _blue_ , and he wonders how the color looks reflected in his own eyes (whether they be Jotunn red or the usual green), but it doesn’t really matter now.  
  
Perhaps it is an idle fancy of his, but his skin is warmer, from the press of Anthony’s body, from the radiating light. He doesn’t dare move, fearing that he will dispel this warm blue  _perfect_ moment, fearing that Anthony will wake and perhaps, doubt.  
  
Tomorrow they will wake and pretend this world is not the Avengers’ world, not the world he has been battling for. Tomorrow they will stay, refugees in Anthony’s shelter by the ocean, and Loki will speak of magic, of knowledge, and Anthony will reciprocate, breathing back to him formulas and technology and science.  
  
But this isn’t how it began.

 

 

* * *

This is how it went: they fought, as super villains and superheroes are meant to do, trading blows of magic and science across the playing field.  
  
This is how it progresses: Loki sees Anthony’s eyes after he cuts the Man of Iron down; he thinks,  _You are no stranger_ , and sees himself. Pride want greed lies need  _fight_.  
  
This is how it goes: Loki tilts his head back, as if he could see Asgard in the stars; Anthony places a hand on his shoulders and says,  _it’s hard not to miss him, yeah?_  And Loki snarls, but he accepts the gesture, he’s a god who takes what he can get, and this is all he’s got.  
  
This is why they run: because Victor, that uncooperative idiot, lets his infernal machines run wild, shooting at the Avengers, shooting at Anthony. He grabs Anthony’s hand, then, drags him through a portal, and says,  _Where do you wish to depart?_  
  
This is where they are: a place called Malibu, where Loki heals Anthony’s wounds the first opportunity he can get. Anthony gives him a kiss, and Loki allows for it, and then another. He’s shaking, and he’s surprised how much  _more_  he wants. 

 

 

* * *

Loki has taken many lovers before, yes, but he has never taken someone with broken brown eyes, a cocky smile, and such a swagger. Anthony pulls him down to bed in practiced ease, promising him pleasure, and Loki lets Anthony direct him, voice soothing him through strokes and kisses.  
  
Being subjugated, for once, is not a qualm of his.  
  
_Your skin is cold_ , Anthony whispers after he draws away from Loki, a wry smile on his face.  _It feels weird. Weirdly nice, though. Gives me goosebumps._  
  
_May I?_  Loki asks, smirking, and ghosts a chilled finger on the curve of Anthony’s hips, smiling at the responsive shiver.  _Not merely goosebumps, Stark, it seems._  
  
Anthony looks briefly surprised, but he picks up on Loki’s intentions with a manic grin.  _Go ahead, Reindeer Games._  
  
He leaves traces of frost on Anthony’s stomach, on his thighs, moving up to fold around the curve of a neck.  _Cold, isn’t it_ , he whispers, and somebody’s not afraid of  _this_ , this sharpness of his monster form. He can lay himself bare, and Anthony does not question him.  
  
Anthony does not flinch when he touches the metal heart.  _It is cold here already_ , he says, mocking, brushing it once and moving away, and Anthony’s eyes flicker close.  
  
His cold hands inch downwards, searching.

 

 

* * *

They spend the moments in Malibu as if they are young. Anthony laughs, jests, teases -- he banters with the artificial intelligence in his house, all the while treating Loki like a common guest. He shares this house, he shares the giddy glee of this bizarre closeness, he shares the brilliance of his mind and the proximity of touches.  
  
They drink scotch while standing on the beach sand, small grains sticking to his bare feet.  _This is a novel place_ , Loki acknowledges as he sips his drink, and he wonders how much time they have left here.  
  
_Picked it out myself_ , Anthony boasts, and he offers Loki more alcohol to drink. Then:  _We’re both drunk now, you know. Tell me a drunk-story then, to wrap this all up._  
  
_What a ridiculous idea._  
  
_C’mon, RG. Give me something here. Drunk-stories are quality blackmail material. Y’know, like if I ever wanted to convince you into offering me magic-enhanced sex or something. Which I don’t._  
  
Loki laughs, then, the alcohol feeling like sparks heating his body.  _Did I ever tell you I was a mareonce?_  
  
An exaggerated gasp.  _Tell me more._

* * *

  
  
_Tell me more_  are three words that fit their language -- the language of gods who move too fast for anyone to ever keep up, the language of them, the almost-kings.  
  
_Tell me more_  is what Loki says to Anthony after he mentions Afghanistan, imprisonment, terrorists, fear and betrayal in his very brown eyes. Anthony is closed up, tight, and Loki wants to peel him open, wants the other to spill all his secrets and speak.  
  
_Tell me more_  is what Anthony says to Loki after Loki speaks of magic-and-science, the way they are possibly the same, possibly different, possibly not even related in the slightest bit, and he scrawls runes on Anthony’s hovering screens.  
  
_Tell me more_  is just another way to learn who he is, who Anthony is, and they talk, unrestrained by boundaries, unlocking the flood gates and widening the borders. 

* * *

  
  
_When do you wish me to depart?_  Loki says one day, leaning back against Anthony in bed, staring at the shadows playing through the room, again from the arc reactor. They knew this was going to have to end, sometime, and Loki decides to draw the deadline, wants to say the last word so he knows what to expect in the future.  
  
_Sick of Malibu?_  Anthony asks, avoiding his eyes, his fingers making patterns on Loki’s forearm.  _There’s always Hawaii. Or Mexico. Or--_  
  
_Your Avengers, Anthony_ , Loki interrupts.  _Your comrades._  
  
_Oh, them_ , Anthony replies wryly.  _It’s okay. We still got time._  
  
Loki stares.  _If you believe so_ , he says. He does not know what will come next. He does not know, he cannot predict anything, and he is stiff and numb and cold like he always is.   
  
_Call me Tony_ , Anthony says, and squeezes his hand.

* * *

 

glaciers have melted to the sea  
i wish the tide would take me over  
i’ve been down on my knees  
and you just keep getting  _closer_  ([x](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pib8eYDSFEI))


End file.
